Fading
by JusttMee123
Summary: He wakes with her name on his lips. At this point the sensation is familiar because it's been happening for months, and though he can't quite recall what he dreamt, he knows he's dreamt of her again. AU BuckyxOC
1. Prologue

He wakes with her name on his lips.

At this point the sensation is familiar because it's been happening for months, and though he can't quite recall what he dreamt, he knows he's dreamt of her again.

_Amelia._

The thought is accompanied by the image of a young woman with light brown hair and deep brown eyes and a charming smile. Her eyes sparkle with laughter and somehow he knows she's laughing at him, and amazingly he doesn't mind. He remembers how her hair looked lighter in the sunlight, but her eyes inexplicably looked darker. She always hated the color of her eyes, but he found them entrancing.

Remembering her face stirs up feelings within him; hope, love, and unbridled joy. He can't remember ever feeling like that before, but clearly he must have around this girl.

_Amelia._

_Mia?_

Before he knows what he's doing, he punches the wall and swears. Who was she to him? How did he know her? He remembers her name and face, and he thinks he remembers little, fleeting moments with her, but that's it. The rest is blank.

_Amelia._

What happened to her?

* * *

_Still a work in progress, guys. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up by tonight or tomorrow._


	2. Chapter 1

_As promised, here is the second chapter._

_Obviously Amelia is an OC, but all other recognizable characters belong to Marvel. __This story will mostly going to follow the plot line of The First Avenger, but there will be a few Winter Soldier spoilers here and there. You'll see what I mean, I promise._

* * *

_April, 1937_

"Come on!" Amelia yelled back to the two boys trailing behind her. "We're going to miss the movie!"

"Where's the fire, Mia?" Bucky called back. "We still have 20 minutes and the theater's only two blocks away."

"Doesn't mean we have to take forever," she said, exasperated. "Honestly, the rate you two are going, the movie will be half over by the time we get there."

"But we have Steve here to think about," Bucky grinned, clapping the other boy on the shoulder. "You don't want him to have an asthma attack, now do you?" The boy in question scowled at his friend and punched him in the ribs.

"Knock it off, Buck," Steve snapped. "I'm fine."

"But would you tell us if you weren't fine?" Bucky asked. "I'm being serious."

"You'd probably know even if I didn't tell you," the smaller boy grumbled, rolling his eyes at his friend. "Besides, I'd probably tell Amelia before I told you." Bucky feigned hurt and ruffled Steve's hair.

"I'm so insulted," he proclaimed dramatically. "And here I thought I was your best friend!"

"Well it appears you've been demoted," Amelia teased him as she linked arms with Steve. "I'm his best friend, now." Bucky attempted to link his arm with her free one, but she playfully swatted him away. Steve snickered as Bucky hung his head and shuffled along behind them.

"He looks like a dog that's been kicked one too many times," Steve stage whispered to Amelia.

"And he smells like one too," she stage whispered back. Bucky's jaw dropped, causing the other two to crack up.

"I'm hurt," he says. "I really am. I don't know why I hang out with the two of you."

"Aw, c'mon, Bucky. You know we're just kidding." Steve threw an arm over Bucky's shoulder.

"Yeah," Amelia said, elbowing him. "You know we love you."

"Yeah, yeah" he grumbled.

They made it to the box office and paid for their tickets. Steve took forever choosing what candy he wanted, so when they took their seats the lights were just dimming. The movie turned out to be dull and boring, so the three of them left halfway through it, causing the people around them to complain. They took the long way home, laughing and joking the entire time.

When they came to Steve and Amelia's street, Bucky surprised her by taking her hand and asking her to keep walking with him a bit longer. They bid Steve a good night at his house and continued down the road.

"How are you?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Bucky, I see you every day," she smiled. "You know how I am."

"Yeah, but we're always with Steve," he smiled back. "I feel like we never get to talk, just the two of us."

"Well, Mr. Barnes, what would you like to talk about?"

"How's your sister?" he asked after a beat of silence.

Amelia barked a laugh. "You say we never get to talk, and then you ask about my sister?" She laughed again. "James Buchanan Barnes, I thought you knew how to talk to women."

"I do!" he exclaimed. "I know how to talk to women. I charm their socks right off them!"

"Of course you do," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's true!" Bucky laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Just the other day, Clara Williams was practically drooling over me, just because I have a car. You can ask Anne, she was there!"

"And I'm sure you enjoyed that," Amelia said, crossing her arms. "As if your ego needed any more stroking. How is it that you have so many girls eager to line up at your door?"

"You know, I'm not sure," he said. "There's this one girl, though. She's beautiful, I've never seen anyone like her. Funny, too, and fearless. But she seems to just be immune to my charm or something."

"Oh yeah?" she smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What happened to charming their socks off?"

"I don't know. Man, what I'd do just to take her out on a proper date…. She'd never go with me, though."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Well," Bucky exhaled and stopped walking, shoving his hands in his pockets. "She's never once expressed any interest, and even if I could ever get her to agree there's still her overprotective father to think about. He's never liked me, even when we were just kids. He hates me and I don't even know why."

"How long have you felt this way?"

"Since I was 13 and she pushed me in the mud for telling her she couldn't play with me and Steve."

Amelia turned so she was facing him and looked at him with a scowl. "Stop teasing me, Bucky."

She was cut off when he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek. "Remember when you absolutely hated me?" he asked, running his thumb across her cheek. "I thought your anger at me was funny." Her heart was fluttering in her chest and her spine was tingling as she realized how close Bucky was to her.

"Yeah, well, I only hated you because you were a fatheaded, jerky boy who thought he was better than me." She shyly turned her face away, clasping her hands behind her back with her eyes cast downward.

"I did not!"

"As kids? Yes you did, don't even try to deny it," she said, punching him gently. "That's why I always liked Steve better when we were kids."

"You're still a kid, Mia" Bucky joked.

"I am not," she protested. "I'm 18 now, remember? I'm an adult."

"Technically," he said, grinning stupidly when she smacked him upside the head.

"I _am_," she insisted. "I could get married if I wanted to." She started to turn away but Bucky caught her hand and pulled her back to him.

"Do you?" he asked, looking far more worried than she ever remembered seeing him. "Want to get married? Not to me or anything, I mean, just in general."

She shrugged. "I guess, maybe some day," she replied after thinking for a moment. "I can't really imagine myself married to anyone right now." Bucky slowly released her hand and they began walking back toward her house. They walked in silence now, save for the sound of their shoes scraping the pavement. Every now and then Bucky would kick a stray rock with more force than was necessary and it would go clattering down the sidewalk.

"Good night, Bucky," she said when they arrived back at her house, just two down from Steve's.

"Mia, wait," he said, looking down at his shoes.

"What is it?" she asked. "Bucky, look at me." He did, and she gave him a small smile.

"Earlier, when I said I'd give anything to take that one girl on a date and you said to stop teasing you?"

"Yeah?" she prompted, butterflies suddenly erupting in her stomach.

"Well, I meant it," he said, leaning down and pressing his forehead to hers. "I wasn't teasing. I wasn't trying to humiliate you."

"Really?" she stammered, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

"I meant every word." His words were a roar, and a growl, and whisper and a vow all at the same time, silencing her with her own heart as it caught in her throat. She had to swallow a few times before she found her voice.

"Why me?" she managed to choke out, and Bucky laughed lightly.

"Because you pushed me in the mud," he answers. "When I was being a stubborn jerk, even years after that, you never took any of my garbage. I respect you so much for that. You're different than other girls." He lifts her chin and gently presses his lips to hers. Her eyes closed as she leaned into him, and somehow the only thought that could form in her mind was how soft his lips were against hers.

"Amelia?" Her father came out onto the stoop and frowned as the two of them jumped apart.

"Hi, Daddy" she said meekly.

"It's getting late, Amelia. You should come inside. And you should be getting home, son."

"Alright." She scurried up the steps, then turned halfway around. She smiled at the boy standing there, still able to feel his lips on hers. "Good night, Bucky."

"Night Amelia." He turned to her father. "Good night, Mr. Fowler."

"James," he said with a curt nod. Her father followed Amelia inside their house.

"Honestly, Daddy," he heard her say through an open window, "you don't have to scare him every time." Bucky chuckled to himself, then began walking back home, a wide grin on his face.


	3. Chapter 2

_Okay, so as previously stated, this will mostly follow the plot line of The First Avenger, but I'll be changing a few small things. If you find any plot holes I __didn't, make something up I guess hahaha._

_Also, I changed the dialogue up a bit, partly because Amelia's been thrown in the mix and partly because I couldn't remember some of it so I had to make it up as I went along._

* * *

_1941_

Amelia stared at the piece of paper in her hands. Her entire body felt numb, and she'd already had to read the paper three times before the news sunk in and she actually understood what it said. Her hands began to shake and she laid the paper down on the table.

"So soon?" she managed in a strangled voice. His hands came to rest on her shoulders.

"You know I have to go," he said gently. His face appeared in front of hers. "It's my duty."

"But next week?"

"I know." His arms circled around her and he held her tight. "But you know what? After this war is over I'll come home to you. We can postpone the wedding until then, right? When I come home we'll get married and chase all our dreams!"

"A house of our own," she said with a watery smile. "And a few children?"

Bucky shook his head and grinned at her. "You're not dreaming big enough, Mia!" He pulled her to her feet and danced with her around the small kitchen. "You'll be a world famous dancer, the best on Earth! I'll be a decorated war hero."

"A general," she smiled at him. "The bravest soldier in the army."

"And we'll finally be able to get out of Brooklyn," he said. "We'll have any house we want. We'll have the Governor's mansion!"

"I'm pretty sure you'd have to be the Governor," she laughed.

""Governor Barnes," he said, spreading his arms. "I like the sound of that. Governor Barnes and his amazing, gorgeous wife, improving New York every day."

"But I'll still be a world famous dancer?" she teased.

"Absolutely. I'll come to every performance, I promise," he vowed.

She pulled him close. "Just come home. I'll be more than happy if you just come home."

* * *

The week passed much quicker than either of them would have liked. Amelia ended up taking care of a sick Steve for most of it, who complained she was babying him too much. Bucky insisted on taking them to the Stark Expo that night, his last night home, despite Amelia's protests that Steve needed rest.

Standing outside the library, Amelia fixed her hair one last time and looked at her watch. They were late again, and she didn't know why she was surprised. Ever since childhood they could count on Bucky being at least ten minutes late, and since moving in with him Steve seemed to be picking up on his friend's bad habits. She sighed and glanced around, smiling when she saw her boys approaching. However, her smile quickly disappeared when she saw the state of Steve's face.

"What happened to you?" she asked as she pushed his hair out of his face and examined his eye. It was puffy and bruising, and Steve hissed when she touched it.

"Nothing-"

"He got himself in another fight."

"Steve," she sighed. "What are we going to do with you?"

"I was just teaching the guy a lesson," he smiled cheekily at her.

"Oh, I'm sure," she smiled back. "You need to stop being so reckless."

"That's not all," Bucky frowned. "You want to tell her, or should I?"

Steve squirmed under his gaze. "I don't know what-"

"Steve from Paramus was denied enlistment." The smaller man glared harshly at his friend and she raised an eyebrow.

"Paramus? I mean I know you're desperate to join the army, but Jersey, Steve?"

"See?" Steve said, turning to Bucky. "She didn't yell. She doesn't think I'm being ridiculous."

"I think you're both missing the-"

"I never said you're not being ridiculous," she cut in. "I definitely think you're being stupid and reckless and a bunch of other things. But I figure you'll hear enough of it from everyone else. Plus I'm a little more concerned about your eye." She touched it again and Steve pulled away from her.

"Can we just get going?" Steve mumbled. They dropped the subject and began walking, Amelia linking arms with Bucky who kissed the side of her head sweetly. They talked about their days for a little bit, but they only got about halfway to the Expo before Steve and Bucky started up again.

"I don't see what your issue is," Bucky said as the trio entered the Expo. "You're about to be the last eligible guy in New York. That's the opposite of an issue."

"Easy for you to say," Steve grumbled. "You've never had a problem with women. What I'd do for just one…."

"Good thing I took care of that," Bucky said, waving to a girl standing near a display. She waved back and ran over to them.

"Steve, this is Connie. She used to go to school with us, remember?"

"I remember," Steve said, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. "Nice to see you Connie."

"You too, Steve," she said through an obviously forced smile and Amelia had the urge to punch her in the teeth. "Bucky said he and his friends were spending the night at the Expo and invited me along."

"Yeah, it's my last night in the city," Bucky said. "Oh, Connie, this is my fiancée, Amelia." She shook the other woman's hand.

"Congratulations," Connie beamed at her.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Hey, it's starting," Bucky said as they heard music blast from a nearby stage. He grabbed Amelia's hand and pulled her through the crowd. They all listened intently as Howard Stark started talking about some sort of fancy technology and flying cars. Amelia turned to make sure Steve could see and managed to catch him offer a small bag of popcorn to Connie. The girl hesitated for a second but had the grace to accept the snack.

She turned back around when she heard the crowd gasp. The car on the stage was actually hovering, and she heard Bucky murmur something in amazement. A second later, though, it began to spark and fell back onto the stage with a large crash.

"Well, I did say a few years, right?" Howard Stark said with a small laugh, and the audience applauded politely. She felt Bucky turn and start to say something, but he cut off abruptly.

"Come with me," he hissed in her ear a moment later. "Steve's gone." The two searched the exhibitions frantically before Amelia pointed out the army recruitment poster. They made it to the designated building as Steve stepped up onto a platform. It was supposed to show you your face on the body of a soldier, but only the top half of Steve's head peeked out on the image. Bucky reached out and shoved his friend's shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"Trying my luck," the small man replied, straightening his jacket.

"As who, Steve from Ohio?" Bucky ran a hand through his hair, a gesture Amelia recognized as one he only did when he as worked up

"Bucky, calm down" she said in an attempt to soothe him, grabbing his sleeve.

"Why?" Bucky exclaimed. "They'll catch him, or worse, they'll actually take him!"

"Steve, let's just go," Amelia said softly. "Let's just go dancing and enjoy our night, okay? There are plenty of jobs you can do here."

"Yeah," Bucky interjected. "Maybe the two of you can find a job together. That sound good?"

"No! That sounds awful!"

"Steve-"

"What am I supposed to do, Buck? Collect crap metal in my little red wagon?"

"Yes!" Bucky's face began to turn red. "This isn't a back alley or a game, Steve! This is war, with guns and bombs and hatred everywhere."

"And that's why I need to go. Don't you see-"

"No! I don't see!"

Amelia stepped between the two men and placed a hand on either of their chests. "I think you guys need to take a take a breath."

"Stay out of this, Mia."

"No!" she snapped, her patience gone. She whirled on Bucky. "Don't you dare tell me to stay out of this, _James_! Do it again and I will tear your arm off and beat you with is. And you-" she turned on Steve- "don't think I've forgotten about you. This decision doesn't affect just you."

"I didn't expect you to understand," Steve frowned.

"Understand?" Amelia grabbed him by the chin roughly. "Understand this. I'm already losing Bucky. If you go to war, I lose you too. I don't think I could bear that." Tears stung her eyes and she struggled to get her breathing under control. Bucky sighed and hugged her close.

"Mia, please don't cry," he said. "You're not going to lose either one of us."

"You can't promise that, and you know it," she said, pushing his arms away.

"See what you've done?" Bucky snapped at Steve. "Why can't you just stay here?"

"Oh, don't blame just him," she began, but Steve talked over her.

"I'm not going to just sit in a factory, Bucky," the younger man snapped back. "There are men out there laying down their lives. I've got no right to do any less than them. This isn't about me."

Bucky scoffed and narrowed his eyes. "Right. Because you've got nothing to prove." Steve looked like he was about to answer when Amelia stepped between them again and them off.

"The two of you are being idiots," she hissed, ignoring the looks they both gave her. "It's the last night we have all together, and the two of you are spending it arguing with each other. And I don't know about either of you, but I definitely don't feel like dancing now."

"Let me walk you home," Bucky said. "It's the least I can do."

"I'm sorry," Steve told her. "I didn't mean to ruin your night."

"It's because I care about you that I worry," she said, hugging him.

"I know," he smiled.

"Try not to do anything stupid until I get back," Bucky said.

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

"You're a punk.

"Jerk." The two friends hugged each other, then Bucky slung his arm over Amelia's shoulders and they walked away. Bucky stopped briefly to apologize to Connie,who waved it off and insisted it was fine. The three of them left the Expo together and went in opposite directions.

"I'm just worried about him," Buck ranted as they walked. "You know how he is. What if he keeps picking fights? I won't be around to save his sorry ass. What then?"

"I guess you'll just have to trust that he can handle himself."

"We both know he can't. I don't know if he actively seeks out fights or if they just find him like a magnet, but there are only so many times a body can handle being beaten up."

"Well I'll be here too," Amelia reminded him. "I can try to prevent them from happening in the first place. We'll take care of each other, just like we always have."

"Promise me you'll keep him out of trouble," Bucky said, pulling her in for a kiss. "And promise me you'll stay out of trouble too. Steve isn't the only one I worry about."

"We'll be fine," she insisted. "Don't worry about us so much that you forget to worry about yourself."

"I probably won't be seeing combat for a while," he assured her.

"But that doesn't mean you wan't see combat ever," Amelia frowned. She stepped in front of him and stopped him. "This _is_ war, Bucky. It's dangerous, and I'm so scared that one day men will show up on my doorstep with a letter and a flag."

"Don't think like that," he said, kissing her hand. "You'll make yourself sick."

"But it's a very real possibility," she said, thinking of her sister. "Molly's had to move back home with her son. Every night I catch her tracing the outline of Danny's star. I don't want to end up like that."

"And you won't," he vowed. He lifted a chain from around his neck and pressed it into her palm. "I want you to hold onto this for me. It was my father's before he passed it on to me. As long as you have it I will always find a way back to you."

Amelia studied the small pendant of St. Anthony, then slipped it over her head and around her neck. "I wish you didn't have to go."

"Me too," he said and kissed her forehead. "But I have the best incentive to make it back home. We still have to get married." They arrived outside Amelia's house, but she curled herself into Bucky's strong embrace.

"Take care of each other, okay?" He murmured and she nodded against his chest.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself," she said in return, and Bucky wiped away a tear that managed to escape her eye.

"Of course." He kissed her deeply, desperate for more time with her.

"I love you, Bucky Barnes."

"And I love you." He gave her hand a small squeeze. "I'll be seeing you."

Amelia ran up the stairs to her house, tears flowing freely. Fear for Bucky's safety took over her mind as she made her way up to her bedroom. She couldn't imagine what she'd do if he didn't come back, and she didn't want to find out.

Bucky had been about to leave when Amelia's father came out of the house and jogged down the stairs, calling his name.

"Sir?" The younger man said.

"You heading overseas tomorrow?"

"Yes sir." Her father felt around in his pockets before finding what he was looking for. He held a small dagger and its sheath out to Bucky.

"Take it," he insisted when Bucky started to protest. "You need it more than I do. Might save your life some day, you never know."

"Thank you, Mr. Fowler." Bucky slipped the knife into his pocked and offered the man his hand. He was surprised when Amelia's father hugged him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Call me Albert, son," he said. "We'll be family soon enough."

"That means a lot to me, sir," Bucky said. "And I promise to try my best to make it back here."

"You do that. I've seen the way my daughter looks at you. I'd hate for her to share the same fate as her sister."

"Me too."

"You take care, James," Albert said, clapping Bucky on the shoulder one more time. "I'll look after Steve for you, make sure he's eating and not raising hell."

"I appreciate it sir."

* * *

_Damn, I think that's the longest chapter I've ever written for a story ever. And I apologize for the "I'll rip your arm off" comment from Amelia; I couldn't help myself._

_Please review!_


	4. Chapter 3

_Shorter chapter. Sorry not sorry._

* * *

He stands at the end of the street, taking in the neighborhood. It's both familiar and completely foreign to him, and that disorients him quite a bit. He knows for a fact that the Winter Soldier has never come within 50 miles of this place. But at the same time he knows that James Buchanan Barnes grew up playing in these streets. He may have only remembered small things, but he remembers Bucky wandering these places in his youth.

He figured Brooklyn was a good place to start looking for clues as to who he was as any. Bucky Barnes's story started here, so he had hoped just seeing the place would jog his memory. So far nothing had happened, but on impulse he decided to find Amelia's old house. Something inside him has an insistent need to find out what happened to her, and it takes him by surprise every time it flares to life.

He's remembered a few more things; she appears in his dreams often and when he wakes he expects to see her next to him. She's the first thing he remembers ever wanting for himself. Before it was other people telling him what he wanted. As the asset, the Winter Soldier or whatever he was, everyone controlled everything for him. Amelia was different. No one's telling him to find her, no one's controlling him this time.

Making sure his metal arm isn't visible, he climbs the steps to a house halfway down the street and knocks before he has a chance to chicken out. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. He didn't know it was possible for him to chicken out of something. Before he has time to analyze that, though, he hears someone unlock the door and it swings open.

"Can I help you?" The man standing there asks.

"I'm looking for someone who used to live here." He grimaces inwardly; he'll work on his people skills later.

"Okay?" the man says hesitantly. He gestures for him to continue.

"Do you know anyone named Amelia Fowler?" The man's eyebrows furrow.

"Man, you got the wrong address," he says. "I don't know anyone named Amelia or Fowler."

"I know they used to live here-"

"Did you hear me? I don't know them. Sorry I can't help you." The man steps back inside the house and closes the door. He feels his temper rise inside him, but figures it won't do any good to rip the door off its hinges. The police would be called and, seeing as he's still a fugitive on the run, it could only end badly for him.

"Why are you looking for the Fowlers?" He hears someone ask. He looks to the house on the right and sees a withered, old man standing there, eyeing him suspiciously.

"It's important. I need to get in contact with them."

"Nobody's asked around for them in decades," the old man tells him. "Not since the 1970s, when they sold that house."

"You knew them?" the soldier asks, turning toward him fully.

"Not well," the old man admits. "I don't know of any Amelia Fowler, but I did know a Joseph Miller. He was my best friend growing up. He lived with his mother and grandparents in the house, but I think he had an aunt named Amelia. She might be the one you're looking for."

"Do you know where they've gone?" he demands, running down the steps of Amelia's house and stopping in front of the old man's house.

The old man scrunches up his face, thinking. "I don't remember where Joseph's mother went, she moved out a few years before they sold their house. I think his grandfather, Albert, was going to a nursing home."

"Which one?"

"I don't remember, son. It was a long time ago, over forty years."

"Thank you," he says gruffly. He stalks off down the road, not entirely sure where he's headed.

_Albert Fowler._

He fingers the dagger in his pocket.

* * *

_Please review! It makes me so very happy._


	5. Chapter 4

Life continued.

Amelia got a job in a factory sewing clothes and spent her days standing in the same spot doing the same motions over and over again. She often left work with cramping hands and sore knuckles that only felt better after she stretched them for a few minutes. When she got home each evening she ate dinner with her family and spent time with her nephew. Joseph was always more than eager to play with her, and she found herself anticipating the day she and Bucky would have their own kids.

The first week had been the hardest. She didn't know what to do with herself that first day with Bucky gone, and when she had gone over later that day she found out that Steve hadn't made it home the night before. Two hours and a frantic dash across the city to the Expo later, she learned that Steve had been accepted into the army as well.

Every moment since had been spent worrying about her boys. She had written to both Bucky and Steve, but at first she only got a response from Steve. His letter had been heavily censored by the government, large chunks blacked out, but she was relieved to learn he was still in the country. He was at a special camp, being trained for something- she didn't know what, as it had been censored- but at least he wasn't fighting overseas.

They wrote back and forth a number of times, and his letters became increasingly censored. It frustrated her to no end, even if she knew the government had their reasons for blacking the information out. She highly doubted Steve was writing about national secrets or information that would threaten the country's safety, so naturally she wondered what was in his letter that they felt they needed to cover.

When she finally got a response from Bucky, almost a month after she first wrote to him, she had run up the stairs and locked her bedroom door. Like Steve's letters, it had been censored in places but he assured her that he was safe. She was so relieved to hear from him that she actually cried over the letter. He ended it telling her that he missed her and dreamt of her every night. She had immediately taped the piece of paper to her wall and composed another letter to him in response.

And so life continued that way for three months. She found the routine of her everyday life monotonous and dull, but she did what she had to do. It made her proud that she could pitch in to help buy groceries, and she always made sure to set a little money aside for her and Bucky's wedding.

And then one night she came home and found Steve on her couch.

She did a double take when she first saw him and he laughed at the look on her face. She couldn't help but stare; the man sitting on the couch had her friend's face and laugh, but her Steve was much, much smaller and weaker. The man in her house was the image of perfect health and fitness. When he stood to hug her she actually had to look up at him. Puzzled, she accepted the hug gladly; she might have only reached his shoulder now, but he was still Steve.

"I know they had you in some special boot camp," she said, "but what happened to you?"

"It's… a very long story," he says sheepishly. "I'll tell you all about it later."

"I guess you don't need me or Bucky to look out for you anymore," she joked. "You're not that skinny little kid I remember."

"Maybe that's a good thing," her father said from the corner. "Maybe now we won't have to bail him out of a fight."

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess so, sir. Oh, Amelia, this is Senator Brandt."

The man shook her hand enthusiastically. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Fowler."

"The pleasure's all mine," she smiled.

"So, Mr. Rogers tells me you're quite the dancer."

* * *

"You and I will have words later," she hissed at Steve before filing out to the stage with the other girls. They all took their places, smiles wide and waving to the audience as they applauded. She got into position, waiting for Steve to emerge from behind the curtain and the music to start, and praying she didn't mess up the steps. The other girls had had weeks to perfect the routine, whereas she was sort of just thrown in the week before and had to play catch up. Finally Steve came onstage and waved awkwardly to the crowd. She and the other girls sang their part as Steve read his lines off of cards taped to the back of his shield.

It was definitely not what she had expected when she agreed to it. The Senator had told her she could do what she loved _and_ help the war effort at the same time, so obviously she agreed. It seemed like a dream come true to her. Of course she knew she wouldn't be performing with the Rockettes or anything of that caliber, but Amelia hadn't exactly expected this either. She had spent 10 minutes backstage tugging at the skirt of the showy outfit; she felt she might as well have walked onstage in her undergarments.

The only upside she could see was that she was with Steve. As promised, he had told her all about Dr. Erskine and the Super Soldier Serum, answering all her questions. And naturally her friendship with Steve didn't stay a secret for very long.

"Have you really known him since childhood?" one of the dancers asked her when they finished a show in Boston. Amelia thought her name was Linda.

"Yeah," she smiled as some of the other dancers gathered. "I was only 10 when I met him, but he was 12. His other best friend, Bucky, didn't like me, but Steve was such a sweetheart. He stood up for me and insisted I be allowed to hang out with them."

"That's so cute," another dancer, Caroline, squealed. "So are you his best friend in the world?"

"I like to think so," she laughed.

She often wrote to her family to let them know she was okay, and in turn they kept her updated on events back home. Her mother told her that Molly seemed to finally be recovering from the blow of losing Danny, which relieved her greatly. Joseph turned four while they were in Los Angeles, and she sent a snow globe for him with her next letter home. She found herself homesick on more than one occasion, but though the manager, Charles, told her she could take a few days off and visit home, she never did. She didn't want to be treated differently just because she knew Steve, and she felt guilty for even contemplating taking the offer.

The tour stretched on for almost a year, and during that time she became very good friends with the other performers. She and the other dancers got to know each other very well, and she had to smile when they all fawned over the men of the drum line that was invited to perform with them in one city. She learned that a few of the other girls also had sweethearts fighting in the war, and she prayed that they all made it back safe and sound. At night they often lounged around and exchanged stories and occasionally Thomas, their resident "Hitler", joined them with Steve in tow.

There were also a number of movies made featuring Captain America, boosting morale and nationalistic pride. Steve always blushed whenever the audience applauded and cheered for him as Captain America gunned down the Axis Powers on the screen, a fact that entertained Amelia to no end. She often teased him about it, calling him the Star Spangled Man with a Plan endlessly.

"I really do wish you'd stop calling me that," he told her in Chicago, but he was smiling as he said it.

"In you dreams." She laughed at him and danced away, humming the tune loudly.

And then their manager had announced that they would be traveling overseas to visit the soldiers fighting there. Amelia and Steve shared a glance, both thinking of Bucky. Though they had both written to him a number of times, they had only gotten a handful of responses, and she had laid awake many nights twisting her engagement ring around her finger. She prayed he was alright, and every day that went by that his name wasn't on the casualty list she thanked God.

Steve sat next to her on the plane ride over the Atlantic, laughing when she refused to let go of her death grip on the arm rest the entire flight. She scowled at him as he laughed and tried to distract her.

"It's not funny," she snapped at him, releasing her grip long enough to punch her friend.

"You should see your face, Amelia."

She spent the rest of the flight giving him the silent treatment.

* * *

_As always, please review guys! I love seeing what you have to say._


	6. Chapter 5

When their plane landed in England, there were trucks waiting for them. All the performers were ushered into them and within minutes they were off. Soldiers in other vehicles accompanied them, brandishing large automatic guns, and Amelia idly wondered if their little troop was so important that they would pull troops from the fighting just to escort them and act as bodyguards. Some of the other dancers in the truck with her were wondering the same thing aloud.

Every show they did went similarly; they would do their bit, minus some of the flashing lights and showy tricks they did in New York, and then Steve would talk to the soldiers. They first few shows went well, but then again they were entertaining men who were building bridges and railroads and who were nowhere near the front lines. As their tour moved along Amelia couldn't stop herself from scanning the faces in the crowds, hoping to see Bucky among them.

They travelled further into Europe, and as the weather grew colder and harsher, so did the receptions they were met with. The men were much less eager to participate when Steve asked for a volunteer and eventually Thomas had to be pulled from the routine because too many men had taken offense and thrown rotten vegetables at the poor guy. Thankfully Thomas hadn't put up a fight about it; he simply shrugged it off.

"It was going to happen sooner or later," he said. "These guys are the ones who've seen the war for real. Someone was bound to get mad about a guy in tights punching 'Hitler' as if ending the war was that easy."

By the time November rolled around they were well into Italy. Every time she filed onstage with the other girls she was shocked by what she saw. These men looked so tired and worn down, their sunken eyes peering out at them from sallow, dirty faces. They responded well to the dancers but as soon as Steve walked out they usually started laughing and jeering.

"I can't blame them," Steve said to her one night. "I must look like a fool to them."

"It's just because they've been through a lot," she said, taking his hand. "You're doing your best here, given the circumstances."

"I should be fighting with them."

"Oh, Steve, not this again," Amelia groaned. "I know it may not seem like it, but you are making a difference."

"Boosting bonds sales, funding the war," Steve said with a wave of his hand. "I know, I've heard it before. I just wish there was something more I could do."

A few days later they had the worst show yet, just five miles from the front. She immediately noticed that their audience was much smaller than most of their previous ones. The men seemed almost angry as they sat there, as if they'd rather be prisoners of war than watch the show. They clapped a bit for the dancers, but as soon as it was just Steve on the stage they fell into a stony silence.

"How many of you are ready to help me sock ol' Adolf on the jaw?" she heard Steve ask the soldiers. Nothing.

"Come on," she said under her breath, clutching her coat around her tighter as a gust of wind made her shiver.

"Not very lively, are they?" Caroline muttered while Steve floundered around on stage, trying to rally the soldiers and lift their spirits.

"Would you be?" Nancy asked. "We must seem despicable to them." Amelia nodded in agreement.

"Girls, you're back on," Charles told them. "Get out there and someone get Rogers off the stage."

A collective groan went up. "What else does he even expect us to do?" one girl asked as they all untied their coats and located their helmets. Amelia shivered and mentally cussed out whoever had the brilliant idea to send them out in tiny dresses in the middle of autumn. But she plastered in a smile all the same and waved and blew kisses as the men cheered. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Steve storm offstage, and she desperately wished she could chase after her friend.

The performance was a disaster since they didn't have Steve giving them their cues and they were all trying to follow each other, but the men didn't seem to mind at all. One dancer, Eve, threw in a few acrobatic tricks that normally Charles would yell at her for adding in, but Amelia was relieved that at least there was something to distract the men from the fact that it was the same song and choreography and she suspected Charles would overlook it just this once. When they finally stumbled through the end of the song the soldiers applauded enthusiastically, a few even jumping to their feet.

As soon as the applause died down, all the dancers were herded offstage and into the trucks. Amelia heard Charles yelling that they were behind schedule due to their encore and within five minutes they were on the road again.

"That was horrible," Julia said, taking her heels off and massaging her feet.

"The worst yet."

"We really ought to learn at least one other song," Amelia agreed. "It's boring to sing the same thing over and over."

"I just can't wait until we get back to the states," Barbara chimed in. "At least there we're not left onstage wondering what to do."

Many of the girls nodded and hummed their agreement. Amelia wanted to go home too, but she was also holding on to the hope that she'd see Bucky at one of the camps they stopped at. She hadn't heard from him in almost two months at that point, and she wasn't sure what to make of that. She hoped with all her heart that he was okay and not injured in any way.

The truck they were in rolled to a stop eventually and everyone in her truck quickly climbed out and ran through the light rain to the tent that had been set up for them. Their manager charged in, telling them they had five minutes to get ready. They all scrambled to fix their make up and costumes then grabbed their helmets and lined up behind the stage.

"Caroline, where is your helmet?" Charles demanded as he went down the line inspecting their costumes.

"I don't know." The girl sounded on the verge of tears.

"Go find it. You have five minutes." Caroline nodded and scurried off. "Amelia, have you seen Rogers?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Not since he ran off the stage, sir."

"Whose truck was he in?" Charles asked. The company only glanced around at each other. "Well? Were any of you in a truck with him?" They all collectively shook their heads and Charles' face turned an alarming shade of purple.

"Of all the things…. Fallon!" Charles' assistant appeared in front of him. "Take a truck and go back to the last camp for Rogers. I'll deal with this situation here."

"Sir," Amelia called, stepping out of line as Charles began walking away. "Let me go with him. I don't have an important part, and Steve will listen to me."

"Fine," Charles snapped. "Go." She nodded a thank you and ran to the truck Mr. Fallon had started.


	7. Chapter 6

He grinds his teeth and clenches his fists. He managed to track down the nursing home Albert Fowler had been in, but they were no help at all. The man himself had died in 1976, and they only told him that next of kin was listed as a Molly Miller. And then they had refused to tell him her address because it was against their policy.

He doesn't even fully understand why he's so desperate to find Amelia. Something in his mind won't stop repeating her name, over and over and over until it becomes a second pulse. When he asks himself why he's even searching, his next thought is always 'Amelia'. It's often accompanied by a memory of her face, and he just knows he needs to find her.

"My Mia," he mutters without meaning to, and he grips his head in his hands. The soldier tries to push her from his mind, but his memory fights him. He's assaulted by the image of Amelia in his arms as they dance around the kitchen, followed quickly by a memory of her all but tackling him in a hug. The memories don't stop there. He sees small touches and quick kisses and feels every ounce of love behind them, and he roars in frustration.

He still loves her, he realizes.

His hand stings and he sees he's punched clean through the window of a car in the parking lot. People inside are staring and pointing, and a few have taken out their phones. He glares at them and takes off. Hopefully it will take the police a few minutes to get there; he can disappear by then. A few orderlies attempt to chase him as he flees the property, but he easily leaves them far behind. After a few minutes he turns off the road and into the woods, slowing to a brisk jog. He knows he's out of danger for now, but he keeps his pace.

_I loved Amelia Fowler._

His metal hand closes around a young tree and with a firm yank he rips it right out of the ground, roots and all. He's not supposed to feel emotions. He is a soldier, a machine, and he does not feel anything because he's never been ordered to feel, whether it be love, anger, or guilt.

_I loved her._

He reduces a boulder to dust. It's not nearly enough, but it helps him control his rage. Memories come back to him as he runs. Quiet moments in Brooklyn with Amelia, though the man shows up in a few of them as well. His mission. Captain America.

'_Steven Grant Rogers,_' his memory provides him with a proper name. He still doesn't quite know what to make of him. On the one hand he remembers enough to know with absolute certainty that Bucky Barnes trusted Steve Rogers, called him a brother. But on the other hand he only knows his mission to take out Captain America. A mission he failed. A mission every atom in his being tells him to complete.

After an hour or so he stumbles upon a town and manages to find his way to the center, making his way to the library. He's trying his best to seem inconspicuous as he sits down at a computer, but the way people are staring at him suggests that he's not blending in as he'd hoped. He opens up the internet, having observed people do this a million times, but he's at a loss as to what he should do next. He hesitantly grabs the mouse and moves it around, watching the cursor on the screen move too. He tries to discreetly look at the screen on either side of him in hopes that he'll find something helpful.

"Excuse me, sir," a woman says from behind him. "Do you need any help?"

"I'm trying to find someone," he answers gruffly.

"Like for a research paper?" She asks him brightly.

"I don't know."

The woman's smile falters. "Okay… well I usually find that Google is usually the best when I'm trying to find information on someone." She walks back to a circular desk, glancing at him every so often.

It takes him a while, but he manages to type the names Molly Miller and Joseph Miller in the search box on the screen. A few photographs appear at the top of the next screen and underneath a long list of articles comes up. He clicks on a few of them, but they're mostly local news stories from decades ago, nothing helpful at all. He's about to turn the computer into scrap metal when he finds an address in Connecticut. There's no guarantee that it's actually them, but it's something to go off of.

He leaves the library without bothering to close the program and hot-wires a car in the parking lot. It's a tiny, stupid looking thing, but it has a GPS system in it. The device is simple enough to figure out, though he nearly jumps out of his skin the first time the GPS talks to him, a woman's voice from seemingly nowhere telling him to turn right onto a new street. But soon he's on the highway, on his way to Connecticut. As he gets closer to the town he can feel his heart start to beat faster and he frowns. He doesn't understand why his body is reacting this way. The soldier doesn't remember ever being fearful or nervous before.

He contemplates driving away, not going through with finding Amelia, or whoever is at this address. They'll never know the difference and he can just disappear.

He pulls up to the house anyway.

It's a cute suburban thing, and there's a man and a young boy playing outside when he kills the engine. The two people stop their game to stare at him as he approaches.

"I'm looking for Joseph Miller," he tells them without a greeting. "Can you help me?"

"Sam, go inside," the man says to the boy. "Are you the police or something?"

"Am I at the right address?" the soldier presses. "Please, I just need to ask him a question."

"Yeah, you're at the right house," the man sighs. "My dad's inside if you need to talk to him, but it's been a bad day for him."

"That doesn't matter. I just need ten minutes alone with him."

"Alright," the man says. "Please, try not to upset him though. It's hard to calm him down during one of his episodes."

The man leads him up to the house, and the soldier sees the young boy duck around a corner as they approach. Out of habit he scans his surroundings and finds plenty of family photos hung on the walls and placed on tables and shelves. He's led up to a white door, and the man knocks softly before opening it.

"Dad?" he says. "There's someone here to see you."

"Philip? Is that you?" a feeble voice calls.

"No, Dad. It's me, Dean. I'm your son."

"Let's go play Philip! I'll race you to the corner store!" The man turns back to him with a sad look on his face.

"You're probably not going to get any answers out of him."

"I need to try." He's not sure what the other man sees in his face, but he steps aside to let the soldier into the room. An old man sits in a chair by the window. A blanket covers his legs and a thick sweater is draped around his shoulders, despite it being so hot outside. He looks at the soldier as he hears him approach, and immediately his eyes light up.

"Uncle Bucky!" he yells, trying to rise from the chair. The soldier jerks back in surprise.

"Joseph Miller?"

"Uncle Bucky, you're alive!" The old man throws the blanket from his lap, exposing his pale, skinny legs. "I knew you'd come back! I always told Aunt Amelia so!"

"Amelia?"

"Where have you been? What happened to you?"

"Do you know where Amelia is?"

"No one would tell me anything," the old man continues. "The soldiers came to the door and handed them a letter and a flag and some medals, but no one would tell me why they were all so sad. Aunt Amelia cried for days. It scared me. She wouldn't come out of her room."

His brow furrows. "What?"

"She's been so different, these past two years, so quiet. She's missed you. But now you're back!"

He's confused. None of what the old man is saying makes any sense. And he doesn't want to picture Amelia sobbing for his loss, locked in her room as she wishes she still had him. His mind conjures up an image of it anyway, and he grips his head between his fists. He's aware he's making animalistic noises, but he's powerless to stop it.

"Uncle Bucky?"

"Stop! Just stop!" he grinds out between his teeth, sinking to his knees. "Where is she? Where is Mia?"

The old man stares at him in confusion. "She's here at home, isn't she? She's downstairs with Mother and Grandpa."

"But Albert died years ago," he says, staring back at the old man, equally confused.

"No he didn't," Joseph says, looking frightened. "He's alive, isn't he? I just saw him this morning! He's alive, he isn't dead!"

The door opens and Dean storms in. "What in the hell is going on here?" he bellows.

"Grandpa is alive, right?" Joseph screams from his chair. "He's alive, I know he is!"

"You need to leave right now." Dean grabs him by his arm and pulls him to his feet, dragging him through the house and outside.

"Please," the soldier begs in a hoarse voice. "I just want to find her."

"So you traumatize an old man with Alzheimer's?" Dean shouts. " I asked you not to upset him. Now I have to go deal with this."

"Where is Amelia?" the soldier demands. He catches the door, not bothering to cover his metal hand. "Just tell me where I can find her and I'll leave."

"You're looking for Aunt Amelia?" Dean asks, eyeing his arm.

"Yes." He tries to control his breathing. "That's all I want to know."

The man pauses. "I don't know exactly where she is. You'll have to ask my cousins."


	8. Chapter 7

"Gone?" Amelia screeched at Colonel Phillips. "What do you mean? Where did he go?"

"Captain Rogers somehow managed to convince Agent Carter and Mr. Stark to fly him almost 30 miles behind enemy lines," the man said flatly, straightening a pile of condolence letters.

"And you let him go?!"

"I did not _let_ him do anything," the Colonel said. He stood and looked Amelia square in the eye. "Captain Rogers went against direct orders. I told him to go with you to your next destination, and it is not my fault that instead he took two of my best people and nearly got them killed. Those men are as good as dead and he knew that."

"Men?"

"A troop went up against enemy forces, and most were captured. That's all I can tell you."

"So, Steve went to rescue them she you wouldn't," Amelia said, fixing him with a steely glare.

"Sometimes being the one in charge means making the hard call," Phillips said, glaring back. "If there was a way to get those boys back without losing even more in the process, we would have done it already. There is no 'right' solution to this situation, and I made the decision I felt was the best."

"And so did Steve," she said. "There has to be something we can do to help him."

"Except there isn't," Phillips said, sitting back down. "That kid signed his own death certificate by parachuting into enemy territory alone. And I don't take orders from show girls."

"That may be so," Mr. Fallon said, stepping to Amelia's rescue, "but we are under strict orders to escort Mr. Rogers to our next destination. We will be staying until we have confirmed news on Captain America's whereabouts, and if you have a problem with that I'm sure Senator Brandt would love to have a conversation with you."

Colonel Phillips looked like he was torn between strangling Mr. Fallon and strangling Amelia, and she took far more pleasure in seeing his face turn red than she should have. She silently thanked Heaven that Mr. Fallon had taken her side and she made a mental note to be much nicer to the man from now on.

"Fine," Phillips ground out. "Miss Fowler, you can share a tent with Agent Carter for now. I'll have a tent set up for you, Mr. Fallon." They were dismissed and Amelia followed Agent Carter to her tent silently. She didn't have anything to sleep in with her, so Peggy generously loaned her some clothes.

"That was very brave of you," she said when she handed the clothes to Amelia. "I've seen grown men soil themselves at the mere thought of standing up to Phillips."

"I guess it's a good thing I don't have to answer to him then," she laughed shakily.

Peggy laughed as well. "Yes, I suppose that does help," she agreed. "I'll give you some privacy to change." Once alone, Amelia immediately took her show costume off and slipped into the borrowed clothes. It was a loose fitting army uniform that didn't quite fit, but she was thankful to get out of the showy outfit she performed in. She'd felt many of the men's eyes on her as she walked past and it had made her extremely uncomfortable. She was just tying her hair up when she heard what sounded like thunder and the ground shook violently beneath her.

Amelia threw her arms out to the side and managed to steady herself. There was another boom seconds later, and soldier outside the tent started shouting. She poked her head out and saw the men gripping their guns and running to the front of the camp. Phillips was shouting orders over the commotion and then Agent Carter was in front of her.

"Stay in the tent!" she barked at Amelia. "Don't come out until I say it's safe!"

"What's going on?" she shouted back, but her question went unanswered as Agent Carter ran past.

She heard shouts of "We're under attack!" and "Keep your eyes peeled, boys!" and she paced the length of the tent with her hands clasped. She prayed for Steve's safety as well as her own as she began to tremble, and she could feel tears pooling in her eyes.

After a while, though, she realized there were no other explosions or gunfire. She chanced another glance outside; the soldier held their positions, but they glanced at each other with uncertainty. If they were under attack, wouldn't the enemy force have at least shot at them by now? What were they waiting for? Amelia strode out of the tent and over to the main tent she had been in before. Phillips was in the middle of an argument with Peggy and two other men.

"There's a chance Captain Rogers was successful," Peggy was saying. "We should send out a surveillance flight to see if we can find him or anyone else."

"That's a terrible idea," one man said, throwing up his hands. "Even if Rogers _was_ successful, there may still be other enemy camps in the area. They'll shoot the damned thing right out of the sky!"

"What if we sent men out on foot?" the other man said.

"What, and have Hydra foot soldiers kill them on the ground instead of in the air?" the first man said.

"They'd never find him anyway, with that big a territory to cover," Phillips said.

"Sir, air surveillance is the only option that makes sense."

"And also the one that makes the least sense!"

"Didn't I tell you to wait in the tent?" Peggy said to Amelia.

"None of you ladies are making any sense," Phillips roared above everyone else. "Sending men out at all only mean more men dead. We cannot rule out enemy attack as of right now, so we might as well be marching out boys to their graves if we send them out on foot. We also cannot confirm that there are no other enemy camps in the area, so I am not comfortable with sending out a surveillance flight. And you're just being an annoyance." The first man turned red and clenched his fists.

"Sir," Amelia began, but the look on Colonel Phillips' face shut her up.

"Do not even get me started on you, Miss Fowler," Phillips growled. "You have zero military training and therefore should not even be here right now." Amelia felt her cheeks heat up in humiliation.

Howard Stark wandered in, a pilot's helmet tucked securely under his arm. Amelia was initially star struck and a little bewildered that _the_ Howard Stark was ten feet away. Everyone had turned to him and Phillips' scowl turned even harsher.

"And where the hell have you been?" he barked at the genius, who simply smirked and threw the helmet on the table.

"You all talk too much," the man smiled at them.

"Stark, you nit wit, don't tell me you took a plane out."

"In fact I did."

Phillips ran a hand over his face.

"And?" Peggy prompted. Amelia stared at him intently.

"We're not under attack," Stark announced, and everyone in the tent relaxed.

"Oh thank God," on of the men murmured.

"In fact," Stark continued, "it's quite the opposite. The explosions came from 30 miles behind the line. The Hydra base there has been completely obliterated. Seems Captain Rogers managed to get inside." Peggy pursed her lips in an attempt to hide her smile, but Amelia's stomach felt full of lead.

"Was there any sign of him?" she asked Stark.

"I thought I told you to get out of here," Phillips said, turning to her.

"All due respect, sir," Amelia said, a hard edge in her voice, "I don't care about that right now. What I do care about is Steve Rogers, one of the best friends I've had since childhood. So, please, I just want to know if there was any sign of him. I'll leave you alone after that."

Colonel Phillips smirked slightly and nodded while Peggy positively beamed at her. Stark, however, twisted his features halfway between a grimace and a frown.

"I didn't see any movement at the site or in the surrounding forest during my flight," he said softly. "But it was also dark and smoky, and I may have missed something."

"We'll send out another flight," Phillips said after a few moments. "Agent Carter, get a team together, have them ready to go out in fifteen minutes. We'll send out another team at daybreak; Stark, you'll lead that one."

"Yes, sir."

"Get some rest," he ordered the remaining people in the tent before exiting to tell the soldiers they weren't under attack. Amelia walked back to Peggy's tent in silence, far too worried about Steve to bid anyone a good night. She wrung her hands and wished she at least had Bucky there with her to calm her down and tell her she was worried over nothing and that the surveillance teams would find him.

She fell into a fitful sleep, waking briefly when Peggy's team got back only to learn that they didn't find anything. Both women tossed and turned on their cots until the sun rose again. They watched Stark and a few other soldiers take off in search of Steve, and Amelia held onto the hope that they didn't see anything the night before because it was too dark. Everyone in the camp seemed anxious and on edge, and Amelia found she couldn't sit still for longer than a few minutes.

"There has to be something I can do to help," she ranted to Peggy as they waited. "I hate sitting around and doing nothing."

"Colonel Phillips is doing everything he can," Peggy said, but the words felt empty and false to both of them. "All we can do for now is wait to hear from Howard."

As if on cue, the man pushed aside the tent flap and peeked inside. Amelia and peggy both rose to their feet,looking at him expectantly. Amelia tried to read his expression, but it was unreadable, his features perfectly smooth.

"Well?"

"We didn't find any sign of Rogers or anyone else," he said. "We flew over the site five times and covered a ten mile radius around the factory. I'm sorry. I figured the two of you would want to know first."

Amelia sank to her knees, unable to process the words. Howard left them to attend to the planes and Peggy muttered something about informing Phillips. Alone, Amelia covered her face with her hands and struggled to contain the sobs that were threatening to escape. Steve couldn't be dead, she kept telling herself, not after all he'd survived.

What were she and Bucky supposed to do without him? How was she even supposed to tell Bucky, who had practically been his brother since they met? How was she supposed to tell Bucky that their best friend wasn't coming home after the war?

After a few minutes she managed to pull herself together and strode over to where she saw Peggy talking with Phillips.

"-and now America's golden boy and a lot of other good men are dead, because you had a crush," she heard Phillips say harshly to Peggy.

"It wasn't that," Peggy shot back, and Phillips raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "I had faith." The colonel simply scoffed at her.

"Colonel Phillips," Amelia began to say, but the shouts from the soldiers distracted all three of them.

"What in the hell is going on now?" Phillips grunted as more soldiers ran past, pointing and shouting. The three of them followed quickly, interest piqued. Amelia heard the soldiers start applauding and cheering as the gate lifted. She climbed onto the hood of a nearby car, much to Colonel Phillips' protest, and nearly fell off. She couldn't believe her eyes as the soldiers parted, clearing a path. Hundreds of men were marching into the camp. Some were riding on dangerous looking vehicles and some were injured, but they were all very much alive and Steve was leading them in. Some of the soldiers began clapping Steve on the back as he passed, and Amelia saw the man walking next to him elbow him and smirk.

She did fall off the car when she recognized him.

"Bucky!" she cried in a strangled voice, pulling herself to her feet and running for him. "Bucky!"

He turned his head in her direction. "Amelia?"

"Bucky!" she called again, unable to stop herself.

"Mia!" He dropped his gun to the side and took a step toward her, stumbling a bit.

She ran straight into him, making him stumble back a few steps, but neither of them cared. His arms circled her body, one hand on the back of her head, and held her close. He kept repeating her name in her ear and it sounded like the most beautiful music she had ever heard. After spending more than a year apart she could hardly believe that it was actually him and that they were actually together.

"What are you doing here, Mia?" Bucky asked, holding her at an arm's length. His eyes roamed over her, checking for any signs that she'd been injured. "And what are you wearing?"

"Are you okay?" she asked. She could explain later. "What happened to you?" Unbelievable guilt flooded through her when she realized she hadn't even known he was missing or a prisoner.

"Hydra," he spat out. "They captured us. Steve got us out and lead us back, the idiot." She turned and found Steve smiling behind her, and she punched him firmly in the gut before throwing her arms around his neck in a hug.

"Ow! You're welcome, Amelia!"

"Steven Rogers, you stupid, wonderful man," she growled. "I thought you were dead."

"Yeah, well just wait till Charles gets his hands on me," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'd rather wrestle an angry grizzly bear than face him right now."

"Who's Charles?" Bucky asked, throwing his arm around Amelia.

"The manager of our show."

"_Our_ show?"

"Yeah I'm a dancer in the Captain America tour. You'd know that if you actually read my letters," she beamed at him, and he grinned and kissed her as Steve faced Phillips and Peggy.

"See? You're already on the path to becoming a famous dancer! I told you our dreams would come true." Amelia laughed and rolled her eyes, kissing him again.

"Hey!" Bucky bellowed over the rest of the men. "Let's hear it for Captain America!"


	9. Chapter 8

Amelia was woken up by Joseph jumping on her bed and shaking her shoulder.

"Santa came!" he shouted excitedly. "Santa came, come on you have to wake up!"

"How is it that you're so energetic this early in the morning?" Amelia smiled at her nephew.

"Because it's Christmas!" Joseph said, rolling his eyes. "Duh."

"Oh, it's Christmas?" she asked with mock confusion. "I could have sworn it was only October."

"Aunt Amelia, stop joking!" Joseph laughed. "Come on!" She groaned loudly as she stretched as slowly as possible and the little boy bounced anxiously. As soon as her feet touched the ground Joseph grabbed her hand and dragged her downstairs, yelling the entire way.

"Merry Christmas," her mother and father smiled at the two of them. Joseph flew into Molly's arms and cuddled in close to her body. Their family sat down to breakfast, which Joseph wiggled through, before sitting down in their living room to exchange presents.

Amelia had saved a portion of her paycheck each week and managed to get a little matchbox car for her nephew, and the look on his face was worth it completely. Her mother had knitted hats for all of them, and they thanked her for her thoughtfulness. She thought the best part of the morning, though, was when her father produced two whole oranges. Amelia could hardly believe her eyes, and Joseph seemed to be having trouble with chewing the fruit completely before swallowing, he was that excited.

She was enjoying her share of the orange when there was a knock at the door. Her mother answered it and they all looked up in alarm when she made a strangled noise of surprise. A second later Bucky and Steve stepped inside, and surprisingly Joseph was out of his seat and across the room first.

"Uncle Bucky!" he shrieked, and Bucky didn't hesitate to swing the boy up in his arms.

"Hey sport!" he laughed. "Gosh you got tall." He set Joseph back on the floor and measured him against himself.

"He look at that," Steve laughed. "Soon you'll be as tall as him."

"This coming from the guy who was five-foot-four before they turned you into Mister America."

"_Captain_ America, Buck. I'm a Captain."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"Well clearly neither of you boys have changed at all," Albert said as he crossed his arms, a smile spreading across his face.

"That's not true!" Steve said. "I'm the handsome friend, now!"

"_Please_," Bucky snorted. "You only say that because Peggy ignores everyone else when you're around."

"Jealous?" Bucky responded by striding over to Amelia and kissing her deeply, making up for the weeks apart.

"Yuck!" Joseph gagged.

"Joseph, leave them alone," Molly reprimanded her son.

"You know, sport," Bucky said, "there will come a day when you won't think kissing girls is gross."

"How long can you stay?" Amelia asked.

"About a week," Steve said. "Phillips decided the Commandos needed a break from kicking Hydra's butt, so we're here till the new year!"

"Oh, that's wonderful!" her mother exclaimed. "It'll be just like before."

"Except I'm the handsome one now," Steve insisted.

"You need to stop that," Bucky warned jokingly.

"I'd like to see you make me," Steve challenged with a smile. Bucky smirked back and began to reach for his pocket, but her mother stopped them, brandishing a wooden spoon.

"Boys," she scolded them. "I don't want anyone getting stabbed and bleeding all over the nice floors."

"Yes, Mrs. Fowler," the muttered together. They both went to sit on the couch, but Amelia caught them elbowing each other roughly. She rolled her eyes and took a seat next to Bucky, whose arm immediately went around her shoulder. He pulled her closer so she was practically in his lap, and she blushed furiously when she realized her parents were watching.

"I've missed you," he said in her ear.

"I've only been away for a few weeks," she reminded him.

Colonel Phillips had let Amelia stay a few days while they sorted everything out, but in the end the Captain America tour was cancelled. Steve's rank was made official and he hand selected a small team to help him take down Hydra, calling them the Howling Commandos. Bucky despised the name, saying it reminded him of howler monkeys, but he put up with it seeing as there wasn't much he could do about it.

With the tour cancelled Amelia had no reason to be overseas anymore, and after sharing a tearful goodbye with Bucky and Steve she was shipped back to Brooklyn. Her old manager gave her her factory job back, and her days continued on as they had before she was part of the bonds tour. She would occasionally see some of the other dancers and they would catch up over coffee.

"Uncle Bucky, look what Aunt Amelia got me!" Joseph said, wedging himself between Steve and Bucky and holding up his matchbox car proudly.

"Well that's no fair," Bucky exclaimed loudly. "How come you got one and I didn't?"

"Because I'm her favorite," he nephew boasted, hugging the toy close in case his uncle tried to take it.

"Ouch. That's just rude, Amelia."

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for his puppy dog eyes."

"Is it okay if I steal you away for a moment?" he whispered.

"Lead the way," she said, standing and holding her hand out to him. They excused themselves and escaped up the stairs. As soon as she knew they were out of sight she turned to talk to Bucky, but he surprised her by grabbing her and kissing her deeply. His tongue slipped into her mouth and he nipped at her lower lip gently.

"Not saying I didn't enjoy that," she said breathlessly when they broke apart, "but what was that for?"

"I've missed you," he said with a shrug. "I'm allowed to miss my fiancée, right?"

"I've missed you too," Amelia said, pressing herself closer to Bucky and tucking her head under his. "I worry about you every day."

"Well, I think I deserve _some_ credit," Bucky joked. "I've managed to make it this far. I've even managed to save Steve's hide a few times."

"I still worry," Amelia frowned. "I'm allowed to worry about my fiancé, aren't I?" Bucky grinned at his own words offered back to him.

"Fair enough."

"Speaking of fiancés," Amelia said, pulling away slightly, "think the war will be over soon?"

"Anxious to be married, Miss Fowler?" Bucky smirked at her.

"Well, with any luck, I won't be Miss Fowler for long," she said.

"Nope, you'll be Amelia Barnes." Bucky tightened his hold on her. "I like the sound of that."

"Me too," she murmured.

"You know, it's kind of funny," Bucky laughed after a moment.

"What is?"

"That almost fifteen years ago we were constantly at each other's throats, and now here we are, planning our wedding."

"I feel obligated to remind you that it was always _you_ telling _me_ to get lost," she said, flicking his ear.

"I thought I already apologized for my younger self," he pouted. "Besides, even if I haven't, you've clearly gotten over it if you agreed to marry me. I didn't exactly hear you say no when I proposed."

Amelia crossed her arms and frowned at him. "And if I haven't forgiven you?"

Buck pressed a kiss to her temple and took her hand. "Well then, my dear, you will just have to deal with it. You're stuck with me for life."

* * *

On the last night Steve and Bucky were home, Amelia couldn't fall asleep. So many scenarios were playing out in her head, and she fretted over them to the point where she began to feel sick. What it one of them didn't come home? What if neither of them came home? Amelia didn't know what she would do. She'd spent the majority of her life with her two boys, had grown up with them protecting her and treating her as their equal. She didn't want to imagine a world where the three of them weren't together.

At that last thought her stomach twisted painfully, and she leapt from her bed. She barely made it to the bathroom in time to be sick in the toilet. The bile stung her throat and left a bitter taste in her mouth, and tears stung her eyes. She felt cool hands sweep her hair back and rub small circles on her back as she retched again and began to cry.

"Please don't go," she whispered as she curled in Bucky's arms. He rested his chin on her head as he felt her tears soak through his thin shirt.

"I don't want to.

"So don't." He sighed heavily.

"We both know I can't do that."

"It's not fair."

"Why don't you come sleep with me and Steve for tonight?" Bucky suggested. "It'll be just like when we were kids." He didn't wait for her to answer, he simply hooked his arms under her legs and around her back and stood. Amelia clung to him as he carried her down the stairs and into the living room where he and Steve had been camping out for the week. Bucky carefully balanced on one foot and nudged Steve with the other.

"Mmmf," the blond man grunted.

"Scoot over," Bucky said.

"No."

"Scoot over," he commanded a little more firmly. "Amelia's here."

Steve grunted but opened his eyes and shifted over a foot to make room for her. Bucky placed Amelia next to Steve and then settled himself on her other side. Steve's hand found hers in the darkness, giving it a small squeeze, and Bucky's arm draped over her stomach as he scooted closer to her.

"Are you scared?" she asked, though she wasn't even sure who she was addressing.

"Yeah," Bucky answered.

"A bit," Steve breathed a second later.

"Me too."

"But I believe that we'll all find our way back to each other somehow," Steve mumbled.

"And besides," Bucky added, "it'll all be okay after the war is over, cause I'll have a beautiful wife to greet me."

"Technically I'm not your wife yet."

"Might as well be. Hey Steve, d'you think Captain America has the power to marry people?"

"I don't know," Steve sighed, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Can we go to sleep?"

"I second that," Amelia said, rolling over so she was facing Bucky. "Besides, I want to marry you properly, with our families present."

"Alright. You'll have whatever you want. I love you, Mia."

* * *

Weeks passed and Amelia received a few letters from both Steve and Bucky. Both of her boys assured her they were keeping each other safe, and Bucky said that they thought they could see an end to Hydra soon. When she heard that her spirits lifted so much that she went to the closest dress store and began looking at white dresses. She knew she wouldn't be able to afford a proper wedding dress like the ones she saw in magazines, but she also figured that didn't matter so much. The only thing that would matter to her would be Bucky waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

Molly offered to help her with her hair and gleefully accepted when Amelia asked her to be her Matron of Honor. They immediately began brainstorming hairstyle ideas, which quickly blossomed into ideas about flowers and music and decorations. She felt herself smiling much more easily and often than she had since the beginning of the war. Everything finally seemed to be looking up.

She and Molly were sitting in the kitchen with a hand mirror. They were trying out different hairstyles and seeing which ones they liked best when there were three sharp raps on the front door. Joseph flew down the stairs, yelling that he wanted to answer it, and threw the door open.

"Uh, hi," he said unsurely.

"Is Amelia Fowler home?" a voice asked. Amelia set the hand mirror down on the table and rose to her feet. Two soldiers were standing in the doorway, and she stooped down to her nephew's height upon seeing them.

"Joseph, I need you to go upstairs for a little while," she said, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. "Can you do that for me?" The boy nodded, grabbed his mother's hand, and they disappeared up the stairs. She stood again.

"Miss Fowler?"

"That's me," she said, hugging her arms around herself.

"Miss Fowler, we regret that this visit in necessary," the first soldier began as the second held out a folded flag and three medals. " We regret to inform you that on the seventeenth of March, it was reported that Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th Infantry was killed in action. We're here on behalf of Colonel Phillips to present these to you."

"We're so sorry for your loss." Amelia took the flag and medals into her hands, unable to even squeak in surprise. It felt like that time she fell out of a tree and landed on her back, the wind knocked out of her and too surprised to even scream. She stayed frozen as the soldiers saluted her and parted to let Steve through.

"Amelia," he breathed hoarsely. She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, and realized that his were red. She dropped Bucky's flag as Steve hugged her fiercely.

"Please tell me this isn't real," she whispered, unable to get anything else out.

"I'm sorry," Steve sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry. It should have been me. It shouldn't have been Bucky. I tried to get to him, but it was too late. I'm so sorry."

Amelia collapsed into Steve's arms and sobbed.

* * *

_I'm sorry if I gave you whiplash with this chapter…. and also for being a terrible human being._


	10. Chapter 9

It takes a few minutes of wandering for him to find her, and when he does he's not sure what to do. He shoves his hands in his pockets and stares silently at the cold stone in front of him.

Amelia Curtis.

She got married to someone else.

While he was frozen in time, she grew older and got married and became a mother. He met one of her sons, a middle aged man named James. He couldn't believe his ears when he had introduced himself.

She lived her life as she was supposed to. And then she had died of old age just a few years ago, in 2008 according to her headstone. Her family mourned but eventually healed, and now there was just a headstone left of her, marking her final resting place. An ordinary ending to an ordinary human life.

Except...

Except Amelia was anything but ordinary to him. She was a firecracker, full of life and joy. She was a fighter and stubborn, and he loved her, and he was supposed to be the one she grew old with. His chest heaves as he feels burning rage overcome him, rage at Hydra for stealing that lifetime from him.

He wants to mourn for his Mia, but Hydra has denied him even that. Any softness was beaten out of him years ago by Hydra agents, and no tears come to his eyes as he looks at her headstone. There is only the terrible emptiness in his chest as if his heart has been turned to stone. Maybe it was better this way. He'll never get to see his Mia again, never hear her laugh or run his fingers through her hair. He'll never even get to tell her goodbye.

"Bucky."

He bristles at the sound of the new voice but doesn't turn. Of course Captain America would turn up here. He was friends with Amelia too, he had been foolish to think he wouldnt search for her too.

"Leave," he says, his voice full of ice. His fingers twitch, and he curls them into a fist to prevent them from grabbing Albert Fowler's dagger.

"You know I can't do that," the Captain says. The soldier grunts but still doesn't face the other man. His every instinct is telling him to kill him, get rid of Captain America, the man who has already escaped his grasp twice. But those were Hydra's orders, and what better revenge for stealing away his life was there than letting the Captain live?

He turns.

_Obviously_ he knows the Captain is a force to be reckoned with; he's nearly had his ass handed to him quite a few times by this man, even before Hydra managed to get their hands on him. But for a few moments all he can see is the skinny little twerp Bucky befriended in his childhood, and the difference is jarring. He recalls the fights Steve would get himself into only for him to find he was far outmatched, and his lips twitch like they want to curl upward into a smile.

"You know, for a ghost, you left behind quite the breadcrumb trail," the man snarks, and the soldier's features fall into a familiar scowl. He should have just killed him when he had the chance.

"Can I help you?" He grinds out between his teeth. The Captain grins at him.

"You know, now that you mention it, I do believe you can," he says. "Hydra is still out there, Bucky, and eventually they're going to come looking for you. If you come with me-"

"No."

"I'm trying to help you, Buck. I'm trying to keep you safe from Hydra."

"No," he repeats. He may be letting the Captain live, but he owes him nothing. He knows Hydra will never get ahold of him because no one in Hydra is anywhere near a match for him. He doesn't need to be babysat by Captain America.

"Please," the Captain begs, "please let me help you."

"I don't trust you," he spits forcefully.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says with an apologetic smile. "Well, if you're not coming with me, may I at least have a moment alone before I leave?" The Captain gestures to Amelia's grave.

"No," the soldier snarls ferally. He knows he's being selfish. He _knows_. Amelia was his friend too.

But the Captain just shrugs. "Suit yourself." he sits on the ground in front of the headstone with a small smile.

"Hey Amelia," he says. "It's been an awful long time, but look! All three of us are together again. Sort of. I told you we'd always find our way back to each other."

"What are you doing?" the soldier growls.

"I'm talking to her," the Captain shrugs. "I like to think she can hear me. You can hear me, can't you Amelia? Bucky doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Don't call me that," he warns, his fingers closing around the handle of the dagger of their own accord.

"But it's your name. It's who you are."

"No it's not!" He tightens His grip on the dagger and brandishes it in front of him. Instead of responding to his challenge and fighting him, though, the Captain turns back to the headstone.

"Jeez, Amelia, you were going to marry him? Although I guess things were a bit different back then. They weren't so complicated. _We_ weren't so complicated."

"Stop that. She can't hear you. She's dead."

The soldier stops short. That simple acknowledgement breaks down some wall inside him, and he remembers everything about his Mia. He remembers her smile and the way she smelled and how he felt whenever he was around her. He remembers the simpler times when they were all just children, how he used to yank on her ponytail and how she would yell. He remembers when they got older and how he could never seem to stop thinking about her. He remembers the feeling he would get in his chest when she smiled at him and how much he loved making her laugh. He remembers falling from the train thinking only of his Mia and how he'd never get to kiss her goodbye. She was his entire world.

The dagger falls harmlessly at his feet.

"Mia's dead."

The Captain sighs heavily and twists to face him. "I really am sorry," he says softly. "If it makes you feel any better, I know exactly how it feels."

"How can you?"

"Back during the war there was this woman, Peggy," he continues. "You knew her too. Man, I thought she was the one. I thought I would marry her. But then I crashed that plane into the Arctic, and I woke up in a new century. Peggy moved on, had a family, lived her life. She's old now, she has some form of dementia."

"You have no idea what I feel."

"Bucky-"

"You _don't_," he insists. "She's still alive. You can still talk to her. I can't. You'll be able to tell her goodbye. I don't get that."

He crosses his arms and stares hard at Amelia's name on the stone. He tries to will himself to cry but nothing happens, and he lets out a growl of frustration. He can't even mourn for her like a normal human.

He's suddenly jealous of the Captain. _He_ can cry and scream and sob for Amelia all he wants. _He_ has all his memories intact. _He's_ America's mascot or something along those lines and is celebrated as a hero.

And meanwhile the soldier is lost and confused, branded a villain. Brainwashed and left with half-there memories that don't even make sense. He doesn't even know what to call himself. All he knows for sure is he loves Amelia Fowler, but she can't help him anymore. She's not even Amelia Fowler. He doesn't know why he expected anything different. He's a villain, and villains don't get happy endings.

With and infuriated roar, the soldier scoops the dagger up again and hurls it as hard as he can at a nearby tree. Much to his satisfaction the point of the blade buries itself a few inches into the bark and a hand on his shoulder makes him leap away. He crouches in a defensive position, ready to spring away if the Captain tries to touch him again. The man holds his hands up in front of him, a peace offering.

"I know you must be angry and sad," the Captain says slowly. "And I know you don't trust me. But you were my best friend when we were kids, the best friend I've ever had, and I want to help you."

"Help me do what?" The soldier snarls. "Blend in? Be like a normal human? Disappear?"

"I can help you remember. I can help you piece together your memories." The Captain takes a tentative step toward him. "Back in 1941 when my mom died, you took me in so I wouldn't have to be on my own. You saw me at my lowest and you lifted me up. You gave me a family and a home when I had none, and I have never, ever forgotten that. So please, let me return the favor."

Steve takes another step and offers him a small smile and his hand.

Bucky Barnes accepts it.

* * *

_I'M SORRY __I'M SORRY __I'M SORRY __I'M SORRY! I know I'm a horrible person. Please don't kill me; really guys those flaming sporks aren't necessary._

_I was wondering something, though. There are a few things I had written for this story, sort of like deleted scenes or something like that, but I couldn't make them fit. Would you guys want me to post those? They would just be put as additional chapters of this. Let me know!_


	11. Chapter 10

_1950_

They erected a World War II memorial in the park. It had been built to commemorate the 5th anniversary of the end of the war and to honor those from New York who had given their lives. The day they opened it to the public they had invited all the families, and so Amelia went, clutching a picture frame. Molly and Joseph went as well, and though David offered to accompany her, Amelia had told him this was something she had to do herself. The hurt had been evident on his face, but he had only nodded.

She really didn't deserve David and she knew it. He was too good to her and much more understanding that he should be. She had told him that she had been engaged previously and that her fiancé had died in the war, and he still wanted her.

"I'm afraid I can't love you like I should," she had warned him. "I loved too deeply before, I gave my heart and soul to him only for it to crash and burn, and I don't think I can fully recover from that. I'm afraid I'll love him until I die."

"Well how will you know if you never try?" He had asked her.

She had grown to love David, ended up marrying him. They even welcomed their first child a few months ago, a son she'd insisted they name James. But though she loved David and adored James, she knew she was holding back. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but she knew the truth. Her heart was an iceberg and her love for David was just the tip of it. Though at first glance it seemed immense, it was the part below the surface that would always belong to James Buchanan Barnes. It was the part below the surface that was larger than life, but hidden, buried.

She finally had everything she wanted, a husband and a son, and it still wasn't enough. Because she had wanted it all with Bucky. She had planned an entire lifetime with him only to have it snatched away, and so deep down, in that place reserved for true love, she kept a single candle lit for Bucky.

Amelia walked up to the slab of granite with too many names on it and traced her fingers over Bucky's name. She still missed him and Steve, and she suspected she always would. They had been her best friends growing up, practically her brothers and as time went on Bucky turned into something more. But it had always been the three of them. She smiled as she recalled the first time she met them, right here in this park, almost 20 years ago. It felt both like a lifetime ago and like it was just yesterday.

She swiped furiously at the tears that were beginning to fall. Though she loved the memorial and what it stood for, she despised it as well. It was as if she could feel Steve and Bucky's ghosts with her and it made her heart ache. She glanced over at her sister and nephew, who were locked in an embrace and crying a few feet away. Many people around them were doing the same thing. Parents, brothers, sisters, wives, children, friends… too many to count. It was overwhelming and entirely unfair.

Amelia knelt and placed the picture frame she had been holding on the ground in front of the memorial. It had been taken at her high school graduation, just weeks after Bucky had kissed her for the first time. All three of them were smiling widely, looking so young and happy and far more innocent than she remembered. Steve was still scrawny, his head too big for his body, and Bucky wasn't even looking at the camera. He was looking at her instead. She hadn't known when the picture was being taken and had nearly swooned when she saw the developed picture. Amelia smiled as she remembered how Bucky had asked her out on a proper date just minutes after the picture had been taken.

It was hard to believe that the picture was 13 years old; in some ways she felt just as young as she was in the picture, and in other ways she felt much older than 30.

Her fingers ghosted over the image of her friends. She wished with all her heart that they were both still here with her. She recalled her darkest days, the weeks following their deaths. She lost Steve just two weeks after she lost Bucky, leaving her all alone. All their memories together belonged solely to her. She would ask whatever God there was above to just take her too, to end her life and let her be with her boys. It might have been easier to accept if there had been bodies to bury and graves to mourn at, but Bucky's body was never recovered and Steve's plane simply vanished somewhere in the ocean. There was nothing left of either of them for her to hang on to.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Amelia grasped Bucky's St. Anthony pendant, now hanging next to her first engagement ring. She never took them off though she knew they only served as reminders of what she'd lost. Because even though it hurt to look at them, they also reminded her of the happier times they'd had.

There was nothing of Steve's left for her to take. Most of it had been donated to museums and sold to private collectors. Everyone wanted something that had once belonged to the man who saved the world. It made Amelia furious. Those people only cared about Captain America, not Steve Rogers, the kid from Brooklyn with too much spirit and not enough to back it up. None of them would have given him a second glance before the serum, not like Bucky and Amelia, what right did they have to his things?

The worst part was Steve didn't even have any relatives left, so it wasn't even his family giving his things away. It was complete strangers who had come in and claimed them. Amelia was sure that she herself had more claim over Steve's possessions; hell, she thought Charles, the manager of their bonds tour from all those years ago, had more of a claim over them than these people.

She stood again and composed herself, smoothing out wrinkles in her skirt as she swallowed the lump in her throat. She turned and her gaze fell on David standing with James under the shade of a tree. She managed a small smile, and though she'd asked him to stay at home she found herself glad he'd come anyway.

"Hi," she murmured, taking James into her arms as he reached for her. She accepted David's kiss and embrace, beaming when James squawked in protest at being squished between his parents.

"I know you said not to come," David said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, "but I just wanted to show you that you're not alone. You don't have to do everything on your own anymore. I'm here for you. I'll be right next to you for as long as you want me around."

She didn't deserve him or his love, but Amelia leaned up to kiss him again anyway. "Well then I hope you don't have anyone waiting, Mr. Curtis," she teased. "Because you're going to be around for a while, and I'd hate for anyone to her their heart broken."

David smiled and wrapped an arm around her back. "Let's go home."

* * *

_Finally posted for Sebastian Stan's birthday, and also celebrating the fact that I finally saw Guardians of the Galaxy._


	12. Chapter 11

Amelia knew her time was running short. She could feel it deep in her bones, but she wasn't scared. She'd lived her life, and now it was time for her to go. She could finally see David again and Molly. She'd get to hug her parents after 30 years without them. And Steve and Bucky would be there, her two boys who had been gone for over 65 years.

She _was_ sad that she would be leaving her children behind. But they were grown, they didn't depend on her anymore. They had families and children of their own, now. In fact, Elizabeth's Annie had just had her first baby.

She felt her son take her hand and she opened her eyes. "You don't need to stay by my side every minute of the day," she chastised him lightly. James smiled in response.

"I know," he said. "But I want to."

"Liar."

"I'm not," he smirked. "I do want to. I love you, Mom."

"And I love you too," she said, squeezing his hand. "Of course, you'll tell your brother and sister I love them as well, right?"

"Okay, but you're not going anywhere, Mom," James said. "You're staying right here where you belong."

Amelia nodded but didn't say anything. She knew her James knew she was old and fading, he was just saying what he needed to comfort himself. He'd probably the hardest time when she went, she thought. He hadn't yet fully recovered from his father's passing, just last year. But she knew with time he would be alright. They all would. She regretted not being able to tell Elizabeth and Michael goodbye in person, though.

"It's getting late," she said finally. "I'm sure you're tired from waiting on me hand and foot all day and Carol is probably wondering where her husband's wandered off to."

"Alright." James stood and kissed her cheek. "Good night, Mom. Sleep well."

"Good night, my dear boy," she said. "I love you."

"Love you too." James flicked the light off in her room, and Amelia settled into her bed. Her curtains were open, and she was thankful that she'd get to see the moon and stars one last time. Though her view was limited she easily identified Orion and the Big Dipper, just like Steve had showed her when they were just children. They had been so young, barely more than babies, but she remembered feeling so grown up at the time.

She turned her head away from the window and there he was, just sitting in her armchair with that dopey smile she used to tease him mercilessly about. When she looked back to the window Bucky was there, leaning against it with his arms crossed, smirking at her.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" Steve said.

"It has," she agreed. "Are you really here?" Both of them simply shrugged.

"Are you ready?" Bucky asked.

"Were you?" She narrowed her eyes at the two of them. "Were either of you ready?"

Bucky pushed off the window and strolled over to where Steve sat. "Even if we weren't, it doesn't matter so much anymore, does it?"

"It happened," Steve agreed. "No way to change that now."

"Still," Amelia said with a sigh, "I never wanted you to die in the war. Either of you. I wanted both of you to come home safe and sound. It was so lonely those first few years. I didn't know what to do."

"But that's all over, now," Steve consoled her gently. "Your life since has been wonderful, hasn't it? You met an amazing man and were a great mother. You did everything you were supposed to do."

"And besides, we never really left," Bucky said. "We've been in your heart the entire time. And if that's too cheesy for you, at the very least we were kept alive in your memories. We promised we'd be with you till the end of the line, and we kept it. You just couldn't always see us."

Amelia nodded slowly. She knew she was staring at the two of them, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. After almost 70 years apart she could finally be with Steve and Bucky again. Despite that, though, she found herself worrying about her children though she knew they were grown. It was in her nature to worry; she had worried about Bucky and Steve in their youth, she worried about Joseph and her children, and she worried about her children's children.

Bucky stepped forward and offered her his hand. "They're all going to be fine," he said, reading her mind. "They're strong like their mother, and the world will keep turning."

"Does it hurt?" She asked timidly.

Steve gave an ugly snort and started to laugh. "You're asking _us_ if it hurt?" He asked. "You didn't used to be this dense, Amelia." She shot a glare in his direction, which only made him laugh harder.

"I think what he means to say," Bucky chuckled, "is that maybe we aren't the best people to ask about that. We did, after all, die in a war. Though Steve's death was partially his own fault. Idiot didn't know how to fly a plane."

"It was more complicated than that and you know it," Steve barked, shooting to his feet.

"Excuses, excuses." Bucky grinned wickedly as Steve scowled darkly at him and Amelia laughed.

"I've missed the two of you so much," she said. "It's been far too long."

"That it has," Bucky agreed. "But are you ready to come with us to a place full of wonder, happiness, and a whole lot of dead people?"

"You make it sound like Coney Island overrun by zombies," Steve snarked, rolling his eyes.

"Regardless," Bucky said with a wave of his hand.

"I'm ready," Amelia said, taking Bucky's hand, which was surprisingly warm and solid. She stood, and her joints didn't creak and her bones didn't ache with the movement. She actually felt better than she had in years, like she could run 100 miles without needing to rest. She threw her arms around Bucky in a hug then did the same with Steve.

"I'm ready," she repeated, taking both of their hands.

"Hold on tight, then," Bucky grinned at her.

* * *

_Okay. So obviously Amelia's not actually seeing Steve and Bucky's ghosts or spirits or whatever because they are not, in fact, dead. She's hallucinating or dreaming or something when they appear._

_I have one more "deleted scene" thing left, so hopefully that'll be up within the next few days._


	13. Chapter 12

_"Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don't go along with that. The memories I value most, I don't ever see them fading."_  
_-Kazuo Ishiguro_

_That's the quote that inspired this entire story. I figured I probably should have put that somewhere in here earlier so the title would make sense to someone other than myself, but hey, better late than never I guess._

_Okay, so this is the last "deleted scenes" thing I have, hopefully you guys will enjoy it. I decided to end it with this one cause I figured you guys would mutiny if I ended it with either of the other two, and I didn't particularly want to wake up dead one day._

_I also wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, alerted and favorited this story cause it made me smile every time I saw that. This was the biggest response I've gotten to a story in a while and I'm glad you guys liked it enough to deal with my cruelty!_

* * *

Amelia curled her knees in tighter to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. She could hear Molly in the next room over, rifling through the closet and checking the chest at the foot of her bed. She had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Her sister always looked for her in the obvious places, she thought Molly would have learned by now. She heard her drop to the ground- she was probably looking under her bed.

"Mama!" Molly hollered suddenly. "Amelia's disappeared!"

Amelia scrambled to open the linen closet door, still tucked under the lowest shelf. "No fair! That's cheating!"

"Well what are you going to do about it?" Molly challenged, planting her hands on her hips.

"I want a rematch," she said, crawling out of her hiding place. Molly helped her beat the dust off the skirt of her dress, knowing their mother would yell if she saw it so dirty.

"I'm bored of playing hide and seek," Molly announced, standing back and examining her sister's dress.

"Well what else can we do?" Amelia sighed. Molly simply shrugged.

That was the problem with moving to a completely new place, Amelia thought. She didn't know what there was to do in this new town, and she hadn't really made any friends yet so that left her with only Molly as a playmate. The other girls at school were nice enough, but she hadn't met anyone she really clicked with yet. For now she mostly kept to herself.

The two of them trudged down the stairs, looking for something to do. Their mother was doing the laundry, but neither of them were interested in joining her.

"Well why don't you go down to the park?" She suggested when both of her daughters wrinkled their noses. She dug in the kitchen drawer for a second then pressed a few coins into both of their hands. She shooed them out the door and told them to have fun. They trudged over to Molly's bike, and Amelia climbed onto the handlebars as her sister held them steady. Bracing herself, Amelia held on tight as Molly began to pedal. They began to pick up speed and she closed her eyes as they began to pick up speed and she closed her eyes as the wind ruffled her hair. She felt like she was flying and she loved the sensation.

She and Molly ran around the park for a bit; it had rained the night before so they took extra care to avoid the mud. After a while, though, Molly saw some girls she was apparently friendly with and ran to the nearby corner store with them, telling Amelia she would be right back. Amelia nodded, unsure what else she could do. She kicked at a few rocks, already bored, and suddenly spotted two boys squatting next to a pit of mud and poking at it with sticks. She quickly picked up her own stick and skipped over to them.

"Hi, my name's Amelia Fowler," she said when she reached them. "Can I play with you?"

The two boys squinted up at her, staring at her with semi-confused expressions. The boy on the left had brown hair that was kind of sticking up in the back and had a smear of mud across his cheek, and she thought it made him look ridiculous. The other boy was much smaller and skinnier; his wrists looked so thin and weak they might break if he fell on them wrong. His eyes were the prettiest shade of blue she'd ever seen and looked kind.

"Who're you?" The brown haired boy asked, still staring at her.

"Amelia Fowler," she repeated. "My family just moved here- we live over on Elm Street- and I don't really know anyone. So can I play with you?"

"You're awfully little."

"I am not!" She frowned, crossing her arms. "I'm turning 11 soon. I'm not little."

"You're ten?" The boy laughed. "But that's so young!"

"It is not! How old are you?"

The boy stood and drew himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest slightly. "I'm 13," he boasted proudly. "I'm in seventh grade, and in two years I'll be in high school!" The smaller blond boy stood as well, though he was closer to Amelia's height.

"You're in seventh grade? Do you know my sister? Her name's Molly," she said. The boy scrunched up his nose and rubbed at his cheek, smearing the mud around more.

"You're Molly Fowler's sister?" the blond boy asked, raising his eyebrows. Amelia nodded.

"I think Molly's really nice," the blond boy said with a small smile.

"She's okay," the other boy said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "She doesn't talk to us much."

"I don't blame her," she said, putting her hands on her hips like she saw her sister do. "You're kind of mean."

"Am not!" The boy exclaimed, throwing his muddy stick down. "I'm a real swell guy! I'm nice to everyone as long as they're not being jerks. Right, Steve?" The smaller boy's eyes widened as he was put on the spot.

"Well then can I please, pretty please, play with you guys?" She begged. "I don't want to play by myself. I get lonely."

"Come on, Bucky," the blond boy said, tugging at his friend's sleeve. "She doesn't seem so bad."

"Look, kid," the boy said, making Amelia scrunch up her face in annoyance. "You seem really nice and all, but you don't want to play with us. Trust me. We like to go on adventures and you'll probably get hurt, and I don't want to take care of a crybaby."

Amelia felt her cheeks and the tips of her ears burn as she stared at the boy angrily. She couldn't believe the gall of this boy, who judged her when he had barely met her. Before she could stop herself Amelia lunged forward and placed her hands on the boy's shoulders, shoving him as hard as she could. The boy stumbled backward and tripped over his own feet. Arms windmilling wildly, he fell backwards into the mud as the blond boy hid his laughter behind his hand.

"Hey!" He yelled furiously.

"Amelia!" Molly charged over and grabbed her sister by the hand.

"Your sister's crazy!" The boy yelled, standing and attempting to wipe the mud from his clothes.

"Come on, Amelia, let's go home," Molly said. "You don't want to hang out with these hooligans anyway." The brown haired boy kicked mud at them, making Molly and Amelia shriek and recoil. Molly tugged Amelia back over to the bike and helped her back onto the handlebars. Their mother threw a fit when she saw their muddy dresses and made them go change so she could wash them.

As soon as she was in her play clothes Amelia grabbed the sidewalk chalk and say on the steps, drawing simple designs on the pavement. After a few minutes she transferred the chalk to her left hand out of curiosity and tried to draw like that. It felt strange and wrong, and she was about to go back to drawing with her right hand when two worn shoes stopped in front of her. She slowly looked up and scowled darkly when she realized it was the blond boy from the park.

"What do you want?" she said crossly.

"I wanted to apologize for Bucky," the boy said. "He's not normally like that, honest. His family's just going through a rough time and he's grumpy about it."

"Well he didn't have to be so mean about it," she grumbled. Amelia lowered her gaze and scribbled a few lines next to her shoe. The boy sat next to her on the stoop.

"I'm Steve Rogers, by the way," he said. "I actually live in that building right there." He pointed at an apartment building two down from her house.

"I'm Amelia, but you already know that."

Steve smiled and brushed his hair away from his face, the sunlight glinting off of his hair. "There aren't a lot of kids on this street," he said, picking up a spare piece of chalk and doodling. "It'll be nice having someone so close to play with. Maybe we could walk to school together in the mornings?"

Amelia positively beamed at him. "Sure, why not?"

* * *

"Mia, come on, this isn't funny anymore!" Bucky called.

"Don't call me that!" She called back from where she was perched high in the pine tree. "My name isn't Mia, it's Amelia. And I'm fine!"

"Are you sure it's safe?" Steve asked. He too was sitting on a branch, but much closer to the ground. Bucky had already tried grabbing his ankles and dragging him out of the tree, the the blond boy had yanked his legs out of Bucky's reach.

"Guys, come on!" Bucky said, pacing at the base of the tree. " If one of you gets hurt, I'm not helping you."

"Who says we're gonna get hurt?" Amelia retorted. She leaned forward and gripped another branch firmly before scooting off the branch she had been sitting on. She swung freely as Steve laughed and Bucky's pacing increased in speed.

"Amelia Fowler, you stop that right now!" he yelled. "Don't make me come up there and get you!"

"Oh please," she snorted.

"You could've climbed up there a long time ago and stopped her," Steve pointed out, straddling his branch and trying to kick Bucky in the head.

"Stop that!" he barked at Steve, pushing his foot away. "And I'm being serious, Mia! Come down!"

"You're not the boss of me!" she said. All the same, she began her descent. She didn't see what the problem was, she hadn't even gone that high. Maybe twenty feet at the most. She picked her way down carefully, testing each branch before putting her weight on it. She was almost to where Steve was sitting when her foot slipped and suddenly she was falling.

It was a short drop, only about seven feet. She didn't even have time to cry out in surprise before she hit the ground, landing flat on her back. The wind was knocked out of her instantly and for a second she could only hear the ringing in her ears as the seconds stretched on forever she struggled to catch her breath.

Time sped up again as Bucky and Steve's panicked faced appeared in front of her, eyes wide and mouths open.

"Amelia! Are you okay?!"

"Please don't be dead, Mia!"

They pulled her into a sitting position and Bucky propped her against his shoulder as she coughed and gasped for air. After a few minutes breathing became a little easier and she realized how much her arm was hurting. She glanced at it and her head spun when she saw the jagged, torn flesh. She bit her lip in am attempt to keep from crying and she realized she'd bled all over herself and Steve, who had been examining the cut.

"Don't you ever scare us like that again," Buck said fiercely, hugging her tightly.

"I'm fine," she said weakly, knowing she wasn't convincing anyone, herself included.

"You weren't moving. I thought you were dead." Bucky sounded like he was on the verge of tears, something that baffled Amelia.

"Bucky, we gotta take we to her to my mom," Steve said. "She can help with her arm."

With Steve's help, Bucky hoisted Amelia onto his back and carried her all the way to Steve's apartment. She kept her arms locked around Bucky's shoulders, and she felt guilty about bleeding all over his shirt too. When they arrived, Mrs. Rogers fussed over her and scolded all three of them for playing in a tree. Amelia squeezed Steve's hand tightly as his mother dabbed at the wound with rubbing alcohol and bandaged it.

"Try not to overdo it for the next few days," Mrs. Rogers said kindly, smiling a bit. "The last thing you want is to make that cut worse." Amelia nodded and hopped off the table as Mrs. Rogers began cleaning up the first aid supplies.

"You know, it's stupid how adventurous you are," Bucky said, sidling up beside her.

"Says the boy who was too afraid to climb the tree," Amelia teased him back. "Even Steve got five feet up."

"Says the girl who fell out!"

* * *

"Wow, she looks really pretty today," Bucky breathed. Steve looked in the direction his friend was looking.

"Who? Dolly?"

"No!" Bucky rolled his eyes "I mean Dolly does look rather nice, but I wasn't talking about her."

"Then who?" Steve asked, elbowing his friend in the ribs.

"Amelia, Steve," Bucky said, exasperated. "Honestly, you know I've had a crush on her for forever."

"I thought you said you were over that?"

"I lied," Bucky shrugged. "Geez, I mean just look at her."

Steve did have to admit that their friend did look pretty today, though he wasn't sure what was different. Her hair looked the same as always, the sunlight making it look a little lighter than normal. She was wearing one of her favorite dresses and a pair of small heels. he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she definitely didn't look the same as she did any other day.

"Man, she's beautiful," Bucky continued. "She's got to be the prettiest girl in her grade. Maybe the prettiest in the whole school."

"You should take a picture," Steve teased him, clapping him on the back.

"Shut up," Bucky laughed, shoving Steve a bit.

"If you like her so much, why don't you tell her or ask her to dinner or something!" Steve asked, straightening his jacket. Before Bucky could answer, Amelia caught sight of them and ran over.

"You'll never guess what happened!" She squealed when she reached them.

"What's got you all excited?" Steve laughed, watching his friend bounce in place.

"Tommy Muller asked me to go dancing tonight!" Amelia practically screamed. "Can you believe it? He asked _me_!"

"That's pretty great, Amelia," Steve said, smiling even though he felt his heart sink for Bucky.

"Yeah, great," Bucky said, rubbing the back of his neck. Amelia noticed it and stopped bouncing, staring at him seriously.

"Bucky, please don't tell me you're plotting ways to scare Jimmy off," she said.

"What? I'm not!"

"Okay, good. You better not," she said, looking relieved. "I know you like to go all big brother and try an protect me, but Jimmy seems like a great guy and I really like him. And I do want you guys to approve because you're my best friends, practically family, and I care about what you think."

"Jimmy _is_ a great guy," Bucky agreed. "I hope you have a good time tonight, Mia." Amelia smiled widely at the two of them.

"Is it true?" Molly asked, running up to her sister. When Amelia nodded both girls dissolved into fits of squeals and giggles.

"Can you imagine?" Amelia said. "Tommy Muller likes _me_!"

"We have to get you ready for tonight!" Molly gasped. "Can I do you hair and makeup?" Amelia laughed and nodded enthusiastically, then grabbed Molly's hand.

"Come one!" She smiled. "I'll see you guys tomorrow!"

"See you then," Steve answered with a small wave. Amelia and Molly ran off toward their house, and as soon as they were out of sight Bucky turned and kicked the flagpole in the schoolyard forcefully.

"Dammit," he swore loudly. He kicked the flagpole a few more time until the principal yelled at him.

"Maybe it won't go so well," Steve offered. "Maybe Amelia will have an awful time and decide she doesn't like him."

"Yeah, but look how happy she was," Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair and messing it up. "She was so excited and confidant and who am I to hope she gets that taken away from her? I would be a horrible person to be happy about her misery."

"Well it's only one date," Steve tried again. "It might not mean anything. It's not like they're going steady."

"Yeah, but you heard what she said. We're like her brothers, and she'll probably never see me as anything else," Bucky said miserably. "I just wish she'd look that happy and excited when she thought about me."

* * *

She found Steve on the swings in the park they used to frequent as children. Even from a distance she could see his body shaking and hear his teeth chattering. She sat down on the swing next to his and took his hand. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Steve's body seizing up with violent shivers every so often.

"She's gone," he said hallowly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

"I just thought she'd be there forever, you know?" He said, not looking at her. "I never imagined I'd have to get along without her. How am I supposed to do this?"

"We'll figure it out," Amelia said. "We always do."

"I'm all alone." Steve let go of her hand and buried his face in his hands as he began to cry. Amelia slid off her swing and knelt next to him, hugging him tightly.

"You still have me and Bucky," she reminded him. "You're not alone."

She looked up as she heard someone approach them. Bucky draped his coat over Steve's shoulders and knelt on his other side. Steve didn't look up.

"You're going to get sick again if you stay out here any longer," he said. "Come on, we'll take you home and you can continue this there."

Steve mumbled something into his hands.

"What did you say?"

He lifted his head. "I said I don't want to go home and see all her pictures and things and know she's gone."

"So we'll go to my place," Amelia offered. "My parents would always love to have you. My mom is making her special soup, we can warm you up with that."

"Come on," Bucky said, pulling Steve to his feet. "At the very least we need to get you inside and out of the cold. You'll catch your death out here."

"Great choice of words," Steve mumbled, dragging his feet.

"He didn't mean it that way," Amelia soothed him, shooting Bucky a look. "We just don't want you to get sick on top if everything else."

"Does it ever stop hurting so much?" Steve asked, looking up at Bucky. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's going to hurt for a while," he answered honestly. "But it'll get easier with time, I promise. No matter how much it hurts now, you'll heal from this too."

They made it to Amelia's house, but Steve hung back when they started to club the front steps. Amelia turned back and tried tugging on his arm, but he resisted.

"Steve, please come inside," she pleaded. "You can't stay outside in the cold forever."

"You guys don't have to do this," he said glumly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's okay. I can get by on my own."

"But that's what we're trying to tell you, Steve," Bucky said, descending the steps. "You don't have to."

"You're out best friend-"

"Our _brother_," Bucky corrected.

"-and even if you wanted to, we wouldn't let you do this alone. You're stuck with us." Amelia pulled Steve close in a tight hug as his tears spilled over again and Bucky squeezed his shoulder.

"We're with you to the end of the line."


End file.
